The visual arts are less well-known in the Cayman Islands than banking is. But there are many fascinating galleries and museums to explore at the destination.

The ocean was the same hypnotic turquoise color as I remembered, and the sand on Grand Cayman's Seven Mile Beach was just as silky and white. On this voyage, though, no cruise ships were bobbing like enormous bath toys in the distance. No unheard speakers were blasting reggae music. The beach wasn't overrun by daytrippers carrying beach bags emblazoned with logos and matching striped towels. The regular activity was diminished to the occasional walker, and I couldn't determine if they were visitors or locals. I counted nine individuals while surveying the sunny scallop of sand from the cover of my canopied chaise.

I had overlooked this section of the coast. Technically less than six miles long (but who's counting? ), Grand Cayman's most famous beach has always been a favorite hangout for me. I've sipped frosty Caybrew bottles at the area's several beach bars, browsed the hotel boutiques, and of course dug my toes into the sand countless times. But the Cayman Islands did not reopen the following summer or fall, unlike many of its neighbors, when the region, like the rest of the Caribbean, went under lockdown in March 2020. Instead, for almost two years the independent British foreign territory was mostly off-limits to tourists. In the process, it was successful in defending the population of just over 67,000 against the pandemic's ravages.

"We did not have any tourists. On the first day of my visit, Hannah Ebanks, the public relations representative from the Department of Tourism, told me that they were crucial to our economy. At the Brasserie in the center of George Town, the nation's capital, we were chowing down on elegant grilled cheese sandwiches that were flavored with truffle. However, it was quite pleasant for a local to enjoy Seven Mile Beach and have that small piece of heaven to ourselves.

Tourists were welcomed back in November, but only under severe access restrictions. Proof of immunization as well as two COVID tests before arrival and three more tests while I was on the island were required for my eight-day visit in January. (Now, all immunized Americans are admitted without being subjected to testing.) On a Cayman Airways trip, though, as I sat in my window seat and watched the trio of emerald islands that make up the territory come into view below me, I had a feeling the inconvenience would be worthwhile.

The Cayman Islands are a Caribbean outlier in many ways. There are no direct taxes on income, sales, or property, making the country the richest in the area. In addition, the economy is driven by banking and financial services rather than tourism. Due to its wealth, the location, unlike many others in the Caribbean, was able to afford to ban cruise ships for as long as it saw fit, forgoing millions of dollars in passenger revenue in the process. (Cruises to Grand Cayman were reinstated in March.)

There are more than 100 different nationalities represented on the islands, and 46% of Grand Cayman's approximately 65,000 inhabitants are foreigners, primarily from Jamaica, the Philippines, the United Kingdom, India, and Canada. Cayman Brac and Little Cayman, are the two islands in the region, with a combined population of roughly 2,300.

But I've always considered Caymanian culture difficult to characterize, in contrast to Jamaica, where I spent a lot of time. (The islands never had a native population.) The initial immigrants comprised pirates and sailors who had been shipwrecked in the 16th century. The recorded messages on my Cayman Airways aircraft were read in a definite British accent. I immediately recognized the lilt of a Jamaican voice coming over the PA system at the international airport, a clean and shining hub following a significant refurbishment that was finished in February 2021. It was also difficult for me to distinguish between residents greeting their guests at Arrivals because I heard so many American and Canadian accents.

My purpose for this trip was to learn more about Caymanian culture and to explore parts of Grand Cayman that I had missed out on in my pursuit of beach and sun enjoyment. I didn't have to go far to find it, not even from my advantageous vantage point on the sand.

The Ritz-Carlton, Grand Cayman is the biggest resort in the Cayman Islands, spanning both sides of the major road that runs down Seven Mile Beach. It has been a mainstay for 16 years and is well-known for two things: the fine-dining seafood restaurant Blue by Eric Ripert, and the Cayman Cookout, a weekend food event sponsored by T+L's sister journal, Food & Wine, to which Ripert invites other chefs from all over the world. There is evidence all around of the $50 million restoration from last year, which was done to honor the topography and history of the territory. The carpeting features a repeating design of the silver thatch palm, the national tree of Cayman; the lobby's glass chandelier mimics the shape of the island's coral reefs, and the large baskets dangling from the ceiling of the Silver Palm Lounge showcase local straw-weaving customs. Additionally, hardwood chairs with hand-plaited silver thatch leaves on them are a tribute to the nation's former role as a rope exporter.

This emphasis on Cayman culture marks a nice change from the hotel's previous somewhat stuffy, anywhere-could-be style. But what got my attention was the art that was included as part of the makeover, all of which was created by Caymanians. John Bird's "Coconuts," an installation composed of ebonized wood salvaged from the airport restoration, is scaled the wall above a stairway off the lobby. The largest art gallery in the Cayman Islands is close by, on a covered bridge that joins the hotel's wing buildings (formally known as "The Art Gallery at the Ritz-Carlton"). The venue displays the creations of around 40 local artists, arranged according to subject and medium (photography, painting, mixed-media collage) (abstract, portrait, and landscape). Chris Christian, a Caymanian artist, is the curator of this changing exhibition, which is updated as works are sold.

The National Gallery of the Cayman Islands, a pair of modern two-story buildings encircling several gardens, including one devoted to sculpture, is the ideal location to learn about Caymanian art and its evolution, located five minutes away. Visitors can also access the gallery from Seven Mile Beach via a brand-new pedestrian underpass that leads to Camana Bay, a popular destination for dining, shopping, and entertainment. When I went, the main exhibit, "Saltwater in Their Veins," explored the long-standing bond that Caymanians have had with the ocean. It included pieces created by 75 modern artists who call the island home.

Several exquisite woven straw baskets and bags can be found inside the museum, which was established in 1996. These items were made from indigenous palm fronds using the same techniques that rope manufacturers used for more than a century until the tradition was lost in the 1960s. Other creations, such as those of the self-taught Gladwyn K. "Miss Lassie" Bush, who began painting her George Town home's walls, windows, and furniture at age 62, is indicative of the artistic scene of the 1970s.

By the 1980s, as more Caymanians pursued formal education or went abroad to study, the emphasis had changed once more. Works from this era addressed issues like immigration, ethnicity, and, in the case of Davin Ebanks' "Death of Ajax," which incorporates five turtle skulls and the blueprints for a catboat, the traditional hunting vessel, the urban development and outside influences that are endangering Caymanian traditions. As a reflection on the commercialization of Caribbean culture, Wray Banker's work "Our Way 1994-1999" subverts a fast-food logo by substituting a well-known brand name with "turtle flesh."

While eating lunch nearby at Ms. Piper's Kitchen & Garden, I gave the job further attention. In the summer of 2021, this eatery debuted on the Seven Mile strip, behind the Comfort Suites, which is now the retro-chic Hampton by Hilton Grand Cayman Seven Mile Beach. It was designed to look like the residence of the fictitious Ms. Piper, an intrepid traveler who arrived on the island from Nairobi, Kenya, in the 1970s. It is a cheery, blush-hued indoor/outdoor poolside space. The eccentric wicker furnishings, the staff outfits that matched the pink umbrellas around the pool, and the menu that was presented like a magazine with a vintage Cayman Airways advertisement on the back all caught my eye.

Although I had never been there before, Palm Heights immediately seemed like home the instant I saw its beach umbrellas emerging from the sand like enormous buttercups (their color, sunshine yellow, happens to be my favorite). In October 2019, the 50-suite hotel, formerly known as the Beach Suites, debuted. It's a paradise for creative people who need a little bit of visual stimulation along with their pleasant resort feelings, as well as those who want to be close to them. The dedication of Palm Heights to the arts is evident in its ongoing residency program, which welcomes painters, sculptors, musicians, writers, and chefs to the property for stays of one, two, or three months. The multidisciplinary artist Kenturah Davis, who divides her time between Los Angeles and Accra, Ghana, the dancer and choreographer Gabe Stone Shayer, a soloist at the American Ballet Theatre in New York, and the ceramicist Dina Nur Satti, all recently took part.

Gabriella Khalil, the creative director and founder of Palm Heights, is a rookie in the hospitality industry. The businesswoman, who divides her time between London and New York, first fell in love with the island ten years ago. She said to me that her vision was to create a design-forward hotel where creative individuals, both locals, and guests, could live, work, and play. We wanted to approach a Caribbean hotel differently, she continued, both in terms of how it appears and how guests are treated. to recreate the Caribbean's Slim Aarons, jet-set era. But also to include contemporary art from both local and international artists.

The entire property reflects Khalil's vision. Tillies, a café surrounded by palm trees, has white latticework covering its walls, from which a variety of straw baskets and paintings by local and international artists hang. Together with Sarita Posada of New York and Courtney Applebaum of Los Angeles, Khalil designed the interiors. Several of the spacious suites have edgy, abstract portraits that Caymanian artist John Reno Jackson was commissioned to make. An artwork by Nigerian artist Tega Akpokona (who finished a residency last spring) of an island woman wearing a glittering red dress is located right outside the breezeway at the hotel's entrance.

On my final evening, I strolled along a peaceful section of Seven Mile Beach as the sunset. Visitors will soon be flocking to the area I had to myself now that the pandemic's harshest effects are behind us, I reasoned. But there is so much more to discover besides those tropical sensations that we all fantasize about throughout the chilly winter months. The island's creative and artistic community may not be highly known internationally. It's a hidden gem that gave me a completely different perspective on a location I previously believed to be well-known. Yes, a trip to the beaches is worthwhile. But the excitement of discovery is also real.